


Through the Dark

by Word_Addict



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grunkle Ford Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know, Near Death Experiences, why do I keep hurting Ford?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 07:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Word_Addict/pseuds/Word_Addict
Summary: “I’m here,” Ford assured his twin. “I’m right here, Stanley.” He cupped his brother’s face with a bloody hand, “I’m not going anywhere.”A follow-up, possible sequel, to BlackNightmareDragon's fic.





	Through the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RadioactiveDeLorean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioactiveDeLorean/gifts).



> A follow-up to Every Dog has its Day by BlackNightmareDragon. Definitely overdue, but better late than never (hopefully).  
> Warning: blood, near death experience, language.

_Broken teacups_ Mabel had said, that day in the basement when Ford had come back. It had never seemed a more apt comparison, he reflected bitterly, watching his brother bleed out on the floor. Like a broken cup or bottle pouring out all of its contents.

He swallowed a wave of revulsion at the feeling of the warm blood on his hands, where he was pressing on Stan’s side. The wound was deeper than he had originally thought. Stan making it to the house alone was a testament to exactly _how_ stubborn the younger twin was.

“Please open your eyes,” he whispered, blinking away more tears. _Don’t leave me alone_ he begged internally. _I want more time_ he thought selfishly.

Stan’s body spasmed against the floor, and he coughed harshly, more blood spattering across the floor. _How much does he have in him?_ Ford wondered. _How much time does he have?_ the clinical part of his mind asked.

“F’rd?” Stan mumbled, barely opening his eyes. He reached up and grabbed Ford’s coat loosely. “Y’here?”

“I’m here,” Ford assured his twin. “I’m right here, Stanley.” He cupped his brother’s face with a bloody hand, “I’m not going anywhere.” _Not ever again_ he promised silently. An old promise resurfaced – “Wherever we go, we go together!” – and he choked down a sob. _Please don’t go somewhere I can’t follow. Not yet_.

Stan relaxed at the words, letting his eyes slip shut again. His hand slipped to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the coat. Ford stared at his twin’s face, memorizing every laugh line, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth, the deep lines carved there by worry and stress. 

 “Stay with me,” he muttered. Swiping at his face, he wiped away his tears. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, hearing the approaching sirens.

-

Stan opened his eyes. He was standing on a beach, surf pounding the shore. Just ahead of him, two boys played in the sand. From where he was they looked identical, but he knew one of them had six fingers instead of five on each hand.

“Do you want to join us?”

Stan jumped a little, before realizing that one of the twins had spoken. A younger version of Ford waved, “C’mon,” he offered, smiling more than he had in years.

Stan tried to take a step forward, tried to say _yes, please_ , but he didn’t come any closer to the two boys. He took another step, but again, he didn’t move.

“Not yet, Stanley” Ford said, and his voice was overlapped by his older self’s. The two voices spoke again. “Not yet.”

Stan took a step back and looked around. The scene began to shift and melt, the ocean dissolving into blackness. Everything around him began to disappear, leaving only himself and the younger versions of him and Ford.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking around.

Ford spoke again, and suddenly it was only him and Stan in the dark and he was looking as old as Stan. “You _can’t_.”

And then he disappeared, leaving only Stan falling, endlessly into blackness.

-

Stan was standing on the porch of the Mystery Shack when he opened his eyes. Birdcalls sounded from the forest, and he could smell pine.

He put his hand out carefully, he didn’t know why, and pushed open the door.

“Oh, Stan!” Ford was standing on the other side smiling, “Come in!”

Stan stepped through the doorway and followed Ford to the kitchen. There was glitter in the floorboards and photos on the fridge.

He took a moment to look at them. Soos, Melody, Wendy, Dipper, Mabel, Fiddleford, Ford.

“You don't have to leave,” Ford said.

Stan kept looking at the photos on the fridge. Dimly, he could remember another life, full of pain and regret. In the back of his mind, he could remember feeling like he was always on the run, always had to do _something_.

If he could leave all that behind, which was Ford seemed to be offering, and live in a better place...

He tried to reach out, but the invisible wall was back.

“Damn you, not yet!” Ford shouted, upset. “I swear, Stanley Jacob, if you...” His words trailed off, and the scene started melting again.

Stan watched as everything blurred into nothing. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out as he dropped into nothing and his vision went black.

-

Everything was white. Stan tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. “F’rd?” he croaked.

There was a rustling off somewhere to his side, and Ford came into view. “I’m here,” his brother murmured. “Stanley, are you all right?”

“Feels like I died and came back,” he joked weakly. His eyes widened at the expression on Ford’s face. _Oh, shit._

His brother sat back in his chair, “Stanley, your heart stopped.” The words were muffled, “You _did_ die.”

Stan stared at the ceiling, unsure of what to say. After a minute, he began to recognize a strange sound coming from his left. “Ford?” he asked.

“I’m here,” his twin whispered.

Stan turned his head to look him in the face. Tears were running down Ford’s face and he looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten or anything else in days. “Look,” Stan rasped. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

Ford shook his head, “You died,” he repeated. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just for a minute, but it felt like all of those thirty years in that minute.”

Reaching out a hand, Stanley put it on top of Ford’s. “Look, Poindexter, as long as you’re around, I’m going to be too. Okay?”

He was starting to fall asleep again, but as his eyes shut he could see a shadow of a smile on Ford’s face. “All right.”


End file.
